You Can Find Me Where The Sea Pours Into The Stars
@gh0st-nebulae
Names Nebula. This has become a Warhammer side blog and a few other things sprinkled in there. She/Her, 31. 🔞 I follow from @nebulaegem I’m into x reader stuff but I tag it. I take doodle requests.
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Warnings: Mentions of death and sickness. Poor Little Cat is not having a good day.
Description: Taliesin is trying to take care of his mortal, fragile Little Cat. But even his best efforts are not enough.
Find the previous parts of this series on my Masterlist, comment and ask to be added to/removed from my Taglist, and remember my Asks and DMs are always open! (Even if I don't reply right away. 😅)
The storm came upon them without warning.
Taliesin strode undeterred through the howling fury of rain and wind. To either side, close enough that he could touch both without fully extending his arms, rose the sheer stone walls of the mountain pass. Water funnelled down their surface in glistening sheets, turning the hard-packed dirt beneath his sabatons into a river that surged halfway to his knees.
Grey water. Grey walls. Grey sky overhead.
It could give the illusion of passing through a liquid vortex.
“Are you all right, Little Cat?”
The disgruntled huff from somewhere behind his head brought a curve to his lips. He felt your weight shift atop his power pack and reached up to grasp one of your calves where it hung over his shoulder.
“Steady.”
“I’m trying!”
He supposed it was only natural you’d shout, given the rolls of thunder shaking small stones loose all around them. Still, he would have preferred it if you hadn’t done it directly into his ear. Taliesin thought about telling you.
A soft curse made him think better of it.
“I just got dry… and now this… Throne damn it….”
Not shouting this time. Also, most likely not expecting a response. Taliesin quickened his step. The sooner they left this narrow pass behind, the sooner he could find you shelter.
A muffled shriek. Arms locked tight around his head.
“Taliesin!”
He stopped and repeated his earlier question. “Are you all right, Little-?”
“Don’t lurch forward like that! I almost fell!”
He twisted his head as far as he was able, catching the barest glimpse of your hip and torso. “Apologies. Perhaps this was not the most inspired idea.”
Your arms remained around his head, but now he felt the extra weight of you resting your cheek atop them. “Let’s just keep going. Please.”
“Little Cat?”
“What?!”
“I will be able to move faster with the use of my eyes.”
“... oh.”
Your hands moved from his face. This time your fingers found purchase in his sodden hair.
Oh. That is… an interesting sensation.
“You may keep doing that if it provides additional stability.”
“Please just keep walking. Or running. Running would be better.”
You sound miserable.
A surge of concern washed through him. He needed to find you shelter. Preferably somewhere warm and dry. Soon.
“Hold on.”
“I am- woah!”
The grinding noise of his armor servos made Taliesin grit his teeth as he jogged through the flooded pass. Already the plate felt heavier than it should. If it sustained much more damage, he might have to remove select pieces. Never an easy task without the aid of at least one techpriest and a full team of Armory serfs.
He sent a quick nonverbal request to the armor’s machine spirit.
Please, remain functional until I find a safer location.
Then he heard you cough.
***
Too hot.
You awoke to the feeling of being stifled, your cheek pressed against something hard, your neck bent at an odd angle. You tried to shift away.
I can’t move.
Your eyes few open to be met by a solid wall of darkness. Somewhere nearby water dripped and rushed. A peal of thunder rattled your teeth in your skull. And bands of what felt like solid metal held your limbs immobile.
Panic.
Let me go, let me go, LET ME-
“Easy, Little Cat.”
The voice drained every drop of terror away. You blinked. Just when your eyes finally began to adjust to the darkness a bright flash of lightning turned everything white. You jumped, the crown of your head bashing against what you could only assume was Taliesin’s armor.
Opening your mouth to cry out resulted in a prolonged coughing fit.
Throne, it feels like my lungs are trying to tear free!
An armored hand spanned the entirety of your back. It rubbed awkward circles, bumping painfully over the ridges of your spine and shoulder blades, until the coughing stopped.
“Breathe. Just breathe.”
He sounds….
Not afraid. Surely not. Concerned? Unsure? You couldn’t place the exact emotion in his deep voice. The arms locked around you tightened uncomfortably.
“T-Taliesin?”
“Yes?”
“Too… tight…!”
“Ah.” The grasp loosened. “Forgive me. Better?”
You were still too hot. And yet, somehow, you couldn’t seem to stop shivering.
“Where… are we?”
“A cave. I discovered it carved into the wall of the pass, presumably by intelligent hands. Rough steps led up to its entrance.”
As soon as you could make out shades of grey, you swiveled your head. The cavern ceiling looked to be about six feet above the floor. You couldn’t see past Taliesin’s bulk to tell how deep it ran. In the lightning flashes, you saw that the Angel of the Emperor was on his knees and still bent nearly double, pauldrons curved inward. What you could see of his face looked….
You snickered in spite of yourself, barely managing to avoid another coughing fit.
“What is so amusing?”
“You look… comfortable.”
A sigh. “I assure you I am not.”
A pang of guilt cut through your amusement.
I’m being a burden.
“You could have kept going.”
His golden eyes found yours. “Your temperature was rising beyond what is normal for healthy mortals.”
You set your jaw, trying and failing to control your body’s shivers. “I would have been fine!”
“I will not risk your health.”
Something in the way he said it filled you with a whole different kind of warmth. You grabbed hold of the feeling, crushed it, and locked it deep, deep down inside you.
Do not think it. Do not feel it. Do not acknowledge its existence.
“Little Cat? Your heart rate is rising.”
“I’m fine.” You refused to look at his golden eyes again. “Just tired.”
“Sleep, then. We will move when the weather becomes less hostile.”
You closed your eyes. And tried very hard to convince yourself you hadn’t heard his last, almost whispered, words.
“Please do not fall ill. I cannot… please.”
***
The storm passed.
You did not wake.
Taliesin tried. He called your name, or at least the name by which he knew you. He gripped your shoulder, carefully, and jostled you. He called louder.
You shivered. You coughed. You even let out a tiny, mewling noise that made his hearts stutter in his chest for some reason.
But your eyes did not open.
Taliesin was an Astartes. A Space Marine. He knew no fear.
Or so he had always been told.
He wracked his brain for any and all information he’d learned from his Company Apothecary. The scarred veteran had treated as many mortals as brothers, perhaps more, in his long centuries of service. From him Taliesin learned of the fragility of the mortal body.
You have been cold and wet for far too long.
He’d tried. He’d sought out the cave for you, even when his every warrior’s instinct screamed to push onward. He’d held you against him in an effort to share his body’s naturally higher heat, even though he’d sworn to keep his distance.
But now you would not wake.
The canvas he’d scavenged for you from the crash site was proving ineffective. Already its edges had been frayed and torn. And a quick press of his gauntlet against your skin showed how unsatisfactory it was at retaining heat.
You need proper clothing.
And rest.
And mortal medicine.
None of these things he could provide.
This failure was inevitable.
He shook his head against the mounting thoughts of doom… and curses… and ill luck….
“No.”
Not this time.
It took more ungainly contortions to extract himself from the cave. His armor shrieked and sparked against the stone. But he emerged with you cradled in his arms, and a desperate light in his eyes. One leap bypassed the carven stairs entirely. Stone cracked beneath his feet, water spraying, as he landed and immediately began to run.
The abandoned outpost will have what you need.
Logic tried to pierce his hope. The outpost had been abandoned for decades. He could not know in what state he would find it. More than likely the primitive inhabitants of this world had stripped it of every possibly useful item long ago.
It will have what you need.
The outpost was still days away. Your temperature was too high. If you remained unconscious, dehydration would take you faster than illness. And what if your illness was no natural thing, but some evil born in your time amongst the Traitors?
What medicine could help you then?
“The outpost will have what you need, Little Cat.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “It will. By the Emperor, it MUST.”
I will not watch you die. Not you.
He could see the end of the pass ahead. Light, like the Emperor’s own golden rays, pierced the grey clouds above to illuminate a gentle slope beyond the stark stone walls. Green grass as high as his hips, dotted with large blooms of some kind, rippled in a breeze he could not yet feel.
Taliesin remembered the cannibal woman’s ominous warnings. How they avoided the land around the outpost. How things that were “wrong” dwelled there.
At this moment, it looked like a paradise.
Which made the gut punch of EVIL suddenly resonating up the pass behind him all the more jarring.
***
He lay on his belly, like the serpent he so tried to be, at the mouth of the gap between peaks. It looked like a great wound in the stone. His two primary hands grasped the edges of the walls as if to rip the wound even wider. His secondary arms supported his torso, bent at the elbow like that of a lizard.
The forked tongue flicked. The fangs glistened in the wan light.
“I smell you, Pet.”
His opalescent eyes glimmered with rage even as His jaw unhinged into an impossible grin.
Mud coated his coils, obscuring the Slaaneshi runes he’d had painstakingly carved upon each pearly scale. He could feel it grating as He writhed. The armor He’d perfected over millennia with crushed Aeldari soulstones and metal slowly extracted from the blood of living humans was scuffed. Even dented in places.
And his hair…!
Rearing upright He raked his talons through the formerly silky waves. Sticks, dirt, disgustingly organic fragments of flora, even….
A repulsive little invertebrate of some kind?!
His shriek of fury sent spiderweb cracks along the sheer stone cliffs.
Whatever interloper was fouling his beloved Pet, and forcing Him to foul Himself in the pursuit, would not die quickly.
His talons ripped gashes in the rock as He catapulted Himself forward. Coils expanding and contracting. All four limbs moving in perfected coordination. Liquid dripped from his fangs to sizzle and hiss upon the earth.
“I am coming, Pet!” His sing-song scream tinged the air an unholy purple. “I am coming to take you home!”
***
In Taliesin’s arms, your eyes shot open. Blank. Unseeing.
Poor little cat please hang on. Being sick and without medicine or food or water to help her recover. RUN TALIESON RUUUUUUUN.
I know he said hes still days away but I bet he can make it there faster esp with his little cat’s life on the line 😭 but also knowing Lamenter bad luck and how Talieson mentions, the outpost could also have nothing in it you wouldn’t do something like that would you right right???
On top of that will he even have time to help her the EC bastard sounds like he’s caught up really fast. Is he gonna have to fight while she’s SICK ALSO WHY CANT SHE SEE DONT LEAVE ME LIKE THISSSS BECKY (i kid i know you will continue to cliffhanger us but that’s why we love you sjdjdjjsjd)
“Is something on your mind?” you ask him one evening “Whatever it is you know that you can tell me, right?”
Something was on Guillimans mind. You could feel it. Physically he was there but while his head rested against your chest he made no sound. Meeting at the lagoon had been his idea. He had found the secret unoccupied spot where you could rest with him with no need to swim up into the open sea and no risk of confrontation with the others since his massive frame was easily spotted despite the good camouflage. Days were spend talking, holding each other and fishing together. In this place you could be you and Roboute could just be Roboute. Whatever was on his mind though didn’t leave him alone and neither did it you.
“I did some readings and came across some records of humans doing certain intimate acts with their mouths on each other.” he said measuring every word. “We have not done it when we last coupled. I would not wish to left you feel wanting.”
From the very beginning you knew that your relationship would be unconventional. Different bodies, different cultures, different species. You were so different from each other but Guilliman made an effort to bridge the gap and find a way to coexist without having one party to change beyond recognition. So far it had worked well but the more he learned the more questions arose in him along with new expectations.
“It’s not something that is necessarily required, my love.” you start as you gently caress his cheek “It’s more like a nicety. You do it because you like it, not because you need to do it.”
“But you would like it?” he clarified and he seemed almost eager for the answer to be positive.
“I would but like I said you dont need to do it if you dont like it. I would never want you to feel force especially if it’s not something you do to each other.”
"If I dont try it, I will not know if I like it or not. To assume I wouldnt enjoy it before I’ve had the chance to see it for myself would be a faulty logic." and how could you argue with that. Guilliman had already made up his mind before he had even approached you.
“Well how can I argue with that?”
As soon as you agreed he tried to go in for a kiss but you pushed him away gently, an idea already forming in your mind. “Let me get my clothes off first.” and obediently he let go of you. In his mind he could pretty much do it for you. Ever since your first time together he had made himself acquainted with human clothing and no button or stubborn zipper would hinder him but if you insisted to do it yourself then he would let you to it.
How glad he was that he did.
The moment you stood up you started to undo your clothes with teasing slowness, putting on a show just for him. A working glove here, a shirt there, pulling it over your head and making sure to give your back a subtle arch, your pants were brushed off with ease and soon after came your panties.
You could tell he was excited. In moments like these Guilliman reminded you more of a predator, dropping the illusion that he was a human like you. His pupils were reduced to slits, his tail moving in the water restlessly, muscles coiled with strength that surpassed your own tenfold. His sharp claws that could tear through flesh and bone extended, leaving marks on the sand. And all his attention was on you.
You stripped off the last piece of clothing, letting it fall beside you and allowing him a clear view and his body that was more than twice your length flexed every muscle. No matter how often he saw it, he never grew tired of the sight of you and as soon as you were within reach he grabbed your wrist pulling you closer to his level, making you settle below him. He kissed your lips, putting a hand on the nape of your neck to breach the distance. All that was left on you was jewelry and the bracelet on your arm that he had given you and that matched the one on his arm. A sign that you were his and he was yours.
You settled on the sand, thighs open so he would have better access and Guilliman did not hesitate to crawl in between them. For a moment he hesitated, unsure how to approach this new battlefield and no doubt his mind ran a dozen theoreticals and practicals before he finally settled on a kiss along your inner thigh. The goosebumps that appeared on your body were enough for him to know you liked it. Human bodies were strange but also easy to read when you knew what to look for and Roboute put your legs over his shoulder, kissing you again and again, closer to your core. He build up the anticipation, teasing you like you had teased him by removing your garments one by one.
He would have to admit having your sex so close to his face was much different than being in you but Roboute was a fast learner and would figure it out how to best please you. His tongue was slow, licking up and down while he sucked at you, searching for the angles that would make you thighs tense up and squirm under him while being mindful of his teeth. The last thing he wanted was to injure you. He chased the sweet sound that you made, every gasp, every small moan that told him more than a thousand words.
His rhythm was steady, his tongue circling your pearl relentlessly, sometimes entering your body experimentally before returning to his efforts. His lips easily wrapped around your clit and sucking on it. You were in heaven and it hardly bothered you when his claws started to leave small marks on you or the hint of teeth when he brushed against you. All that mattered was him between your legs and the delightful sounds you were making and your hand tangling with his short hair was the least of his problems.
And finally his persistence was rewarded.
“Don’t stop…just like that..” you said desperate, chasing that high and it was all he needed to know that he found the perfect key to your pleasure, keeping up the pace till the very end.
Guilliman felt your hand tightening in his hair, pushing him closer while your back arched off the sand. Something warm hit his tongue and he kept up the rhythm through your orgasm. Only when he felt your body relaxing did he retreat and pull away. For a moment he concentrated on your taste, moving it around in his tongue, trying to decipher all the notes and catalog it like he would do with any other substance but it was overshadowed when he looked up. Seeing your chest rise with deep breaths, your face flushed with the afterglow of your climax made excitement bubble in his chest again and for a moment he drank in every detail before measuring himself. Patience was a virtue and he would do well to maintain it even if he was ready for more and he felt it in his lower body, pressing hard against the sand. Who knew that your arousal could give him such a backlash?
His eyes noticed your bag lying not far away from your clothes and he made a move to crawl in that direction in hopes of finding water in there that you could drink. He would not want for his lover to dry out if such a thing was even possible for a human. But a hand around his arm stopped him making him turn to you again, his eyes flashing down your body quickly before they rested on your face again. There was arousal in your eyes, satisfaction and something he could not yet identify but your words were enough for him to know exactly what was on your mind.
“Want me to return the favor?”
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I knew that he might be an albino, since I was aware that his sons occasionally exhibit signs of albinism, so perhaps that’s why his color palette is light. I sometimes imagine that without it, he might have had a color palette similar to his father’s, even if his eyes were still violet.
I’m currently thinking up a WH40K fan story centered around him that features my OC. I’d love to draw it as a comic, but I’m worried that my art skills aren’t good enough yet……8_8
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
This week, @tagedeszorns and I have decided to break with the tradition of MMM while also returning to the roots of Warhammer lore.
In one particularly interesting lore bit from the 1999 Chaos Codex, it is stated that Fulgrim did not pick up some random sword and got possessed, no. He joined Chaos because ole Horus seduced the heck out of him!
So, here is one part of our diptychon and the other you will find here:
💬 0 🔁 2 ❤️ 4 · Marine Meat Monday Special: Old-lore Primarchs! · Horus, the Seducer
Last week the topic of very old lore came up, especia
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